“Most likely,” he said, and then, “Are you aware that your servant is expecting a child?”
“What?”Velvet was astounded. Pansy enceinte? “It isn’t possible,” she said, but in the back of her mind she knew that if it were Dugald was the father.
“Will you ask the physician if he is certain, my lord?” she said.
“He is most certain. Your servant will deliver within a month or so.”
“When can I speak with her? She has been unconscious these last few days.” Velvet gazed worriedly down at Pansy’s drawn features.
“When will the girl be able to speak? She has been unconscious for several days,” Akbar demanded of the doctor.
“Her rest is a natural one now, my lord. She should awaken tomorrow.”
“You should be able to speak with your servant tomorrow,” Akbar relayed to Velvet. “Her sleep is now a natural one.” “Thank God!”
He was touched by her emotion. He found her concern for her servant charming. Taking her again by the hand, he led her back to her own quarters.
“She doesn’t look enceinte,” Velvet mused. “When we left England my sister-in-law was with child, and not as near to term, yet she was big. I hope Pansy’s baby is all right.”
“Each woman carries her child in a different fashion. Some grow large early, others late, and some not at all. Some women carry high, some low. She seems a hardy girl.”
“She is.” Velvet looked at him and smiled. “You are so very kind, sire. Tell me how it is you know so much about babies.”
“I should. I have fathered enough.” He smiled sadly. “Only six, however, have lived. I have three sons and three daughters.”
They stood awkwardly silent for a few moments. Then Akbar said, “You will want to rest now. I will come tomorrow and see you. Good night, my English Rose. Sleep well.”
Adali arose from the corner where he had been awaiting her. “Aiyee! You have pleased him, my princess! Yes! Yes, I could tell it! He is pleased with you!”
Velvet shook her head. “He is simply a kind man, Adali. Tomorrow I will ask him to return me to my own land.”
The eunuch said nothing further. He knew that Akbar would do no such thing. He had seen the look in his emperor’s eyes as they caressed his new mistress. It had been many years since the Grand Mughal had looked with passion upon a woman. Most of his liaisons were either out of political necessity or physical need. This, however, was a different matter.
Adali remembered the story of Akbar and one of his wives, the beauteous Almira. Almira had been thirteen when she had caught the eye of the Grand Mughal. Unfortunately she was the wife of the elderly Shaikh Abdul Wasi. Akbar, however, desired her greatly, and Almira was equally enamored of the emperor. Since neither could control their passions, Akbar forced the shaikh to divorce his wife so that he might have her. Almira was the mother of Akbar’s second son, Prince Murad.
It was the only time Adali knew of that his master had wed out of his own desire and not expediency. The eunuch himself had not been with the court then, being just a small boy in Cambay, but the tale was a famous one. After Adali had joined the Mughal’s court he had learned that Akbar was fond of all his wives; the mother of his heir, Prince Salim, Princess Jodh Bai, being highest in his esteem. Never, however, had Adali ever heard it said that the emperor was in love. Adali believed, though, that this was about to change. Akbar desired the foreign princess, his mistress, that much was plain, but there was more to it than that. The eunuch could tell by the emperor’s patience and gentleness to the woman that Akbar thought her special. She was very different, and the emperor knew it. Had he not instructed Adali to keep her from the others lest they change her? Adali realized that by virtue of his French father he had just taken a giant step forward in the hierarchy of the household eunuchs. If his mistress could hold the Grand Mughal’s heart, his fortune was made. To that end he intended to work.
“You must rest now,” he said. “It has been a frightening time for you, but you are safe here.” He turned her about and pulled open the ribbons that held her little blouse closed.
“What are you doing?” Velvet cried.
“You must prepare for sleep,” he answered her. “Here we sleep without garments.”
“You cannot undress me,” exclaimed Velvet in a shocked tone.
“I am your servant,” he answered.
“You are a man,” she replied.
Adali laughed. “No I am not, princess. I am a eunuch. Oh, I resemble a man, and I was born a male, but when I was gelded I ceased to be a man.” He whisked her blouse off and reached to loosen her skirtband. “I have none of the feelings and desires of a normal man.” The skirt slipped to the floor, and Velvet automatically stepped from the silken circle as Adali bent to pick up the garment.
Realizing that she was naked, Velvet quickly climbed onto her bed and drew a silken coverlet over herself. “I am really quite capable of undressing myself,” she said in a small voice.
“You are a princess,” he answered, “and it is my duty to serve you. You will be used to me in a few days.” He chuckled. “And then you will think nothing of my presence.” Taking a hairbrush from his pantaloons, he sat down next to her and began to brush out her luxuriant hair quite expertly, gently but firmly removing the tangles. When he had finished, he replaced the brush within the voluminous folds of his pantaloons and walked to the door. Turning, he smiled and said, “I will sleep outside in the hallway. Should you need me you have but to call.”
“Where are you taking my clothes?” she asked. “They are all I have.”
“I must give them to the laundress to wash,” he said. “Do not worry. In the morning there will be a trunkful of beautiful garments for you, I promise. Good night.”
